


Superstition

by Miutinichisheno



Category: Dark Wolverine (Comics), Loki: Agent of Asgard, Wolverine and the X-Men (Comics), Wolverines (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because battleworld is a mess I'm not even gonna look at, F/M, Gaudy trio, M/M, Multi, Mythology References, Other, Pocket Dimensions - Freeform, inspired by Better Myths, mythology's probably going to get bent over a table
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miutinichisheno/pseuds/Miutinichisheno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set Post Agent of Asgard vol 3<br/>Daken is approached by SHIELD to take up missions that they wouldn't assign their current agents, be it beyond their intelligence or missions they can't be seen to take up. Still left reeling from his father's death and Mystique's betrayal at the end of Wolverines, Daken is left unsure until a certain God of Stories appears to him one night with a deal of his own.<br/>The trio forms to take down Gods, otherworldly creatures and discover the truth behind humanity's perceptions of mythology one story at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> 'I walk out to the edge of the lake,  
> eyes following the water  
> as it washes my convictions away.  
> He stops me when I’m starting to pray.
> 
> He says,  
> “Intuition is awakening suspicion.”  
> He says,  
> “My tradition is the art of superstition.”'  
> \- Superstition by The Birthday Massacre

“Laura, I know you're trying to help, but I'm not becoming someone else's lapdog.” Daken growled, pulling a shirt on. “Especially not S.H.I.E.L.D.”  
“Then come to the school. Help us there.”  
“I'm not meant for that place, nor would they accept me with open arms. Even with your good word.”

He sighed, she looked so desperate. She wanted to help him, she wanted to give him the opportunity to turn his life around like she'd had. Daken wasn't entirely sure that he wanted the mass redemption, it always seemed so excessively dramatic. All he needed to do was look at the train wreck that had been Logan's life all this time, half of it being a savage monster, the other half trying to make up for it. Whilst yes he may have enjoyed a stage to perform, there was something that felt wrong about having someone hand it to him on a platter. He wasn't looking for handouts, nor was he looking for pity. It didn't mean anything unless he worked for it himself; besides, no one gave those kinds of opportunities out for free. What uses could SHIELD even have for him in this state? Daken looked at the stub of his left arm and couldn't help but snarl. He was a husk of himself, what use was he?  
“Daken, they asked for you.”  
“And I'm supposed to answer the call of duty?” he seethed, but the look Laura gave him made his jaw tighten. It wasn't her fault.  
“You don't have to do anything for them, but at least hear them out.”  


The bar was dimly lit. It was something of a personal secret he kept from his inner circle, a place he could go to think with a book and a glass of wine. How, how was he always so easy to convince of things these days? Where had his cast iron resolve gone? Though he had to wonder if he ever really had such a thing and it wasn't just stubbornness and fear. The words on the page seemed to blur, unable to focus, not that it'd mattered he'd read the book several times over. He was waiting, this wasn't a typical visit to the wine bar. He was to gather aid because after the briefing he'd received there was no way he was prepared to go solo. Teams never went well, like this would be any different and yet there was something that amused him. All of the possible candidates he could think of were down on their luck somehow. What was this, some sort of rehabilitation programme they were attempting? The problem with this particular miscreant was, no one had seen him in almost six months. There was talk, chatter and outrageous rumours of a pocket dimension, worlds colliding, and yet this one, this remained intact. The end never came. They all saw it happen, and yet the world opened its eyes once more, it's inhabitants awoke like it was nothing but a bad dream. The world continued to turn, life went on. Some part of Daken had accepted the end. Laura fought tooth and claw; he huffed to himself, yet he stood there, watching the sky turn red, alien spacecrafts filling the sky from the comfort of his upper floor condo. He'd tasted death so many times, but it never stuck. He couldn't tell if he was cursed of if this was a cosmic sign.  
Maria Hill had made it sound so enticing. If by enticing he meant patronising and as though she wanted nothing to do with him at all. Naturally he'd relished in pushing her buttons, testing just how far he could push her. If she really needed him that badly then she'd bite her tongue. She did, to an extent. That didn't stop him from being able to scent her frustration, neither of them wanted this, and yet somehow it had come to this. Since The Night of the Red Twin no one knew what to do, many were left wondering if the entire event was nothing more than a trick. An illusion. And yet after the Dawning, everyone was aware that a blend of sorts had occurred. Whilst supernatural events weren't unheard of in the slightest, they were happening more and more. What might have once been considered superstition became natural, old tales had power once more, and so did the creatures in them; Exorcists, Demon hunters, Vampire killers all those 'noble' knights and warriors had existed in a small handful, and yet the demand was now higher than ever. Or maybe, they gave up hiding. The world was supposed to end after all, all those creatures who had been promised the world after humans were destroyed, he could imagine they'd be more than a little pissed off about it.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been hitting the drink so hard whilst thinking about such things, but taking care of himself wasn't one of his stronger abilities. Not lately, not for a very long time. Pathetic really, the only time he took care of himself was when someone else needed him. Laura took care of him, but he was a burden, holding her back from her promising career with the X-men as her sire's replacement. Wait, was he bitter? He set his drink down and sighed. How was he even supposed to find Loki these days anyway?

 

The night passed slowly, one drink followed another until his forehead rested on the bar, wincing at the door. Even if he couldn't process the alcohol in his system at alarming rates, he could still hear, smell and sense everything and everyone. The man bitching to the barkeep because the woman he'd been flirting with wouldn't have any of it and was more interested in the books than his unwanted advances. The young couple who couldn't stop exchanging saliva, their hormones filling his nostrils and giving him a sick feeling twisting in his stomach; this was a place to relax and read not slobber over one another. The supposed best friends arguing with one another, raised voices, bared teeth and clenched knuckles. Adrenaline, anger over what was once a perfectly calm debate about interpretation of passages of philosophy and poetry. He hated his empathic abilities. Their rage and irrationality bubbling through him, amplifying his own hatred and sorrow. Or that might have been his pheromones acting up. He felt cold and hot all at once, the door opening and closing sporadically bringing with it the sharp chill of the air outside. The fire spat, the wood smoke filling his lungs. It was a scrap of comfort, something he would cling onto otherwise he'd single-handedly win the fight of the warring friends, tear the young couple apart only to invite himself, selfishly demanding to be the centre of their attention and once that was done, slam the pretentious fuck boy's face into the bar and remind him that no means no and he isn't entitled to that woman. Then perhaps take said woman home just to rub it in his face. It would probably have just ended in drinking a bottle of wine together and talking about books.  
A hand touched his shoulder, broad palm, thin fingers. At first Daken thought it was the barkeep there to tell him he'd probably had too much and arrange a cab home. But the owner of the hand didn't smell like the barkeep, no the barkeep was still occupied with the fuck boy. The owner didn't smell human, but the hand didn't feel like Laura's, they didn't smell remotely close to how she did. If he wasn't so drowsy because of the alcohol then he'd have maybe swung a punch at the stranger, instead he found himself accepting its presence. There was a scrap of familiarity, the tiniest glimmer. But there was nothing he recognised.  
“Some of your strongest ale please.” the newcomer sounded perky, but there was a jovial roughness to his voice. “I'd say another for my friend here, but I don't quite think he'd be able to enjoy it.”

Daken groaned and tried to lean up, squint at the man who'd call him friend, but his head felt like it was filled with lead. So he lolled his head, grunting as he shifted his weight to face him. So he really had fallen off his pedestal then.  
“...Loki..?”  
“Yes, I suppose.” He looked in an almost worse state than he was. His hair shorter than the picture he'd been supplied by SHIELD, it stuck up more, his forearms covered with dark hair, skin paler, dark circles under his eyes and a crooked smile. He was missing a tooth very obviously. And yet he looked more than content in himself. “I've heard through the grapevine you've been looking for me. I have to wonder what an ex-criminal wants with the god of stories.”  
“I needed the god of lies.” Daken spat out. He hated him already. Why did he get to be so happy through it all? What gave him the right?  
“A god of lies that can't lie isn't very useful now is it? If you need that, then you're in touch with the wrong Loki, but in this little pocket dimension, I'm the only one you've got access to. Sorry to be a disappointment.” He shoved several dollar bills into the barkeep's hand as he brought him his drink. “Perhaps I should ask, what is was you wanted with me.”  
“I'm gathering a team.” The mutant tried not to slur his words. Most of his concentration was going on maintaining complete English rather than creating a hideous mashup of every language knocking around in his grey matter.  
“In a bar? I think you're shit out of luck friend. Or were you hoping they'd drift to you? Eager to prove themselves and once all was said and done you could retreat to your own little hidey hole away from the world, hmm?”  
“What are you..”  
“It's a long story friend. Let's get you by the fire, you old codger, I'm going to be the best thing that's ever happened to you.”

 

“I'm a collector of stories now, it's how this lovely little dimension exists.” Loki had since changed drinks, finding that he now couldn't stand the flavour of ale. It was repulsive now. He'd now appropriated the bottle of wine Daken had been polishing off slowly. Was this how Time Lords felt? “Now don't think I'm throwing you a pity parade by saying I found your story enthralling enough to come seek you out. This was on SHIELD's cards long before the Red Twins happened, I don't want to break from the original script. It looked far too interesting, imagine it will you? Going where the wind blows us, that's what suits you and I.”  
“The fuck are you talking about?” Daken rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping that the other wouldn't bring up the blanket draped over his legs and how it made him look as though he was bulldozing right towards old age.  
“Stories are magic. Recounting your story is something of a spell. How else are you sat here right now. We all saw it, the final battle. Everyone got what they wanted, and as the Ragnarok is inevitable, so is the rebirth of the world. I've just sort of skipped over all the boring bits that make it all so cyclical.”  
“You created this world?”  
“Everything. I even went back three thousand years to tell the ancient nords about their beloved pantheon that would come to be adored and known as the most metal thing in existence.”  
“I don't think I'm sober enough for this-”  
“Psht, you're more than sober enough. I know you. If you weren't plastered right now you'd have walked out of here in a strop the minute I patted your shoulder. Proud and angry little bugger aren't you?”  
“I thought you _were_ taller.”  
“Was! But, I rejected my little box, like so many reject the boxes society gives them, I rejected the box that I was given time after time. And in doing so there were some.. changes. It's the most liberating thing I've done in a very long time. So the God of lies is no more, God of stories, Mother of gods, The moon theatre, moon king.. Really the list goes on, but, by the look you're giving me I think I'll stop. So, the major point here really isn't about me, as wonderful as that is right now, is what you were going to be doing.” Loki leant over and put his hand on his shoulder, the other hand stretching out in front of them as if gesturing to some grand design. “Putting together a crash team to fight whatever strange forces SHIELD doesn't want to be associated with. Well trust me, I know what that's like.”  
“...You're not going to join are you?”  
“On the contrary, I feel like perhaps you could do with someone who's been there and knows when's the time to say no and mic drop it out of there. ”  
“So then why the hell are you helping me?”  
“I can't lie. But I can say that the reason I won't say is because if you hear it, you will probably not want me around.”  
“I don't want your pity, I want people who can do the job.” Daken's upper lip curled, exposing his sharp teeth.  
“Exactly. And whilst I do have empathy for you and your situation, it doesn't get in the way of the fact that I know I can be of help. SHIELD's always been search and destroy, with the current state of affairs I think there should be perhaps a more.. understanding touch. That's where I come in. It'll be fun! Three roguish rapscallions working together, you the disgruntled leader, me the wise advisor and Quentin our powerhouse.”  
“You knew who else I was going to ask”  
“Sorry, yes I should probably be more considerate about spoilers. Quentin, the new Phoenix. That Quire boy. The one who's obsessed with negative green.” He smirked. “You liked him all things considered, even if he was just another stray your father took in.”  
“I really want to punch you right now.”  
“If you went to punch me you'd just fall out of your chair.”  
“My dizziness is literally the only thing keeping you safe right now.”  
“Alright, alright. Look let's get you home. Maybe we should talk about this when you're more sober, you're more aggressive than I thought you'd be.”  
“If you know everything about me and my 'story' then you should know I would be.”  
“How can I if you don't know the fullest extent your anger goes to? I only know what you told me and what you left in the world.” Loki got to his feet, pulling on his disgusting looking jacket. The fur that was once white now black and patchy. He took Daken's arm and despite the perpetual aura of violence around the mutant, Daken put his weight on the God.  
“You look like shit, how are you so happy?”  
“Because I got what I wanted from my own efforts.”  
“Good for you.”  
“You know, that's exactly what he said to me. But the problem with you types is unless you're shown there's always another option you get worn down by everyone else.” His brows dipped, giving Daken a once over. His eyes were bloodshot and the scruff he was growing unkempt. “I've been there. Let me help, stubborn old goat.”  
There was something akin to a fuck you buried in there, but it seemed to be a form of protest for the sake of show as he let himself be guided to the door. An inspirational story of self-help sounded like something he didn't want any part of. He was just here to keep himself occupied and get back into the swing of things. He hated how pathetic he'd become, things that stayed stagnant were the things that died and ceased. Each time he got closer to that state of decay, he floundered and struggled. Most of the time when he'd reached that point it was too late and the inevitable occurred. This was clearly an intervention. Why bother struggling any longer?

 

The shout pierced the condo and perhaps the entire building. Mid-morning light flooded the bedroom and Daken wasn't ready for any of it. He tried to seek solace under his pillow, but Loki was hell bent on stripping everything off his bed leaving him exposed to the world. His torso littered with scars that wouldn't fade as they used to, double vision in the morning was no longer a problem, but the blurred halo behind the God's head wasn't a welcome sight. He didn't want to be disturbed.His drunk train of thought about why bother struggling with this intervention seemed less and less an appealing offer. Being stuck with a higher being 'watching over him', whilst Loki was incapable of lying yes, that didn't mean simply not telling him his entire plan was off the table. For all he knew he could have been walking right back into the hands of another Romulus type.  
“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey” The sing-song tone was horrific. Granted the smell coming from the kitchen was enticing, but he didn't recall actually agreeing for Loki to stay at his place. Some part of him reeled at the idea of there being dirty marks left wherever Loki stayed for prolonged periods of time. Did he know what a shower was anymore? Bathing was about the only thing of personal grooming he bothered to keep up with and that was mostly because he couldn't stand to smell himself.  
“First you pry into my mind and then you invite yourself to stay in my apartment?”  
“Daken, you need taking care of right now. We'll get you cleaned up and then we'll get Quentin.”  
“I don't want him on my team.”  
“You were considering him-”  
“Was. We don't need him. I don't need as much help as you think I do.”  
“Then pull on your big boy panties and prove me wrong.” His brow hiked up his forehead, cracking that smug smirk where all Daken could do was stare at the gap in his teeth. _Beat him. He doesn't deserve to be any happier than you are._  
“Baiting me isn't going to work.”  
“Of course not. That's not at all the reason why you're getting out of bed.”  
“I'm getting out of bed because you're cooking my bacon and I need breakfast.”  
“Mhmm.”

The two sat in silence at the table, Loki shovelling food into his mouth as though his throat had been slit. Daken was more demure, partially eating the toasted bacon sandwich, really it was obvious he was more interested in the bacon than the toast itself. It was more of an obligatory presence in his breakfast. Though there was a definite elephant in the room, Daken wasn't about to address it, but Loki seemed to be all too happy to silently remind him of it's existence.  
“So what mission have they given you?”  
“Don't you know everything?”  
“I only know they gave you missions, I don't know what it was all about. They're probably-”  
“Sizing me up, I know. Daddy Dearest is gone and now they want someone to pick up his slack.”  
“Are you alright with that?”  
“...No.”  
“So then why?”  
“I don't care about that.” _I can honour him like this. I can be the child he should have had. That they both should have had._  
“That doesn't answer my question.”  
“Because it doesn't matter.” Daken sighed and got to his feet. He threw his plate in the sink, giving little heed to the crash it caused. He had someone who came in and cleaned, lord knew he couldn't be bothered to tidy it and yet he couldn't stand the mess either. Pathetic. The file was half spilled out on the coffee table, already covered in tea rings and edges ragged. Loki had to wonder exactly how long ago SHIELD had given him this task. It couldn't have been all that pressing if they were prepared for him to fob it off. Daken sat himself down, opening the file and glancing over it. “The reason I was looking for you, a _God_ was because SHIELD have their eyes on one themselves. Are you familiar with the entity Cronus? The first Titan, offspring of Gaia and Uranus according to the Greek mythos.”  
“If this involves Cronus shouldn't Hercules be dealing with this?”  
“The brute has no subtlety. They wanted subterfuge, not a rush assault.” He yawned, pushing papers aside until he came across a photo of a corporate building. Externally it looked pretentious and overly sterile, the lab was integrated into the offices, no doubt there were sub levels, there must have been in order to house a God. “It started off as an indie company looking to do research into one upping the male enhancement industry, they wanted to create a cure for impotence altogether. A noble cause, but, something happened along the way. The company looked for external help and advice, next thing we know they've stopped publishing their results of tests and have gone all hush hush. They pass inspections, but SHIELD caught wind of a rat so to speak. You might know the whistle-blower, friend of yours. The human lie detector.”  
“Verity called this one?”  
“She analyses anonymous questionnaires, there was recently a series of surveys released, no doubt to try and shunt suspicions, there's always a section which is about the survey being done willingly and without outside influence or pressure. Nearly two-thirds of the results on this section were outright lies. And the latest batch of lab results they released were phony. So they sent in some undercover agents... They came back, but they weren't.. right.” Daken grimaced, wiping his nose. “One of them reported that their girlfriend suddenly became pregnant. It seemed to be great news at first, but the pregnancy was shorter than nine months and the next thing they knew they had a baby monster as their bundle of joy. SHIELD did tests on him and they found something in his system, non-human in origin. He had gaps in his memory. Really I don't know why they'd make such a stupid move, but perhaps they got arrogant and thought they were sending a message to stay away.”  
“How's the child?” Loki's expression grew forced. His brows dipping. _Ah yeah, mother of gods and monsters._  
“It seems docile. SHIELD seem to be hoping it's a nature vs nurture debacle. It's safe, they'll probably want to send it to the Jean Grey Institute. But the main question is how did they get that technology and who's given it to them and why?”  
“So, what's this got to do with Cronus?”  
“I believe that they've managed to enslave it, or Cronus made a deal with the scientists. Old gods and creatures seem to enjoy manipulating humans, no offence.”  
“Tale as old as time, not like you're a stranger to it either, hmm?”  
Daken sneered, trying not to get distracted from the matter at hand. “Cronus didn't want his children though, he tried to eat them in the old legends.. The only way we'll know is by getting in there.”  
“How do you propose we do that?”  
“We walk in the front door.”

 


	2. Cronus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infiltration, Loki and Daken discover a stowaway sent to join them and just how insidious the mastermind behind the operation actually goes. Daken confronts Maria about why she took him on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "From the ocean, we were washed up on the other shore  
> We didn't know where we'd been, or who we were before  
> We were two brothers and a sister with three poison hearts  
> We walked so close together, but our souls were always far apart
> 
> A slight of hand, a flash of light  
> Our seasick days and homesick nights  
> When tomorrow comes, there'll be no end in sight"

When Daken had said that they'd be using the front door, Loki hadn't realised that he'd been quite so literal. Through one means or another, the mutant had managed to get them onto the trials under aliases. Daken seemed to be rather struck with using the name Robert at times, and Loki concluded that it had something to do with Robert being shortened to Bob and Logan always said Bub, it was all very convoluted and though probably just a coincidence, he couldn't help but smirk at whenever Daken gave out his persona's name. Although he hadn't thought Daken would ever let anyone think of him as struggling with impotence given the virile bloodline he stemmed from. Logan seemed to have a child in every corner of the world... well _did_. And yet somehow despite how Daken enjoyed copious amounts of casual sex, he'd managed to avoid knocking any of his bed partners up. Still, he was probably careful to the point of paranoia. The bigger joke itself was the fact that Loki was the Mother of Gods, it was almost cruel really like they were rubbing their virility in all of these men's faces. His glamour giving him the form of an aging man pushing his late fifties. Once upon a time, Loki might have made himself appear something of a grey fox, but he looked unkempt and that little bit sleazy. Daken couldn't help but wonder if he was enjoying the scruffy rogue look that little bit too much these days. He'd been convinced to shave, only leaving the traces of a five o'clock shadow, the shaved sides of his head grown out just long enough to no longer be considered stubble.

The tour was short and confined to barely an entire floor of the company itself, alarm bells were already starting to twinge as the two exchanged a look. Those who had been in for the previous set of trials were recovering the injection they'd been given. 'The serum is injected into your vasa deferentia, not unlike the Gel plug contraceptive treatment' the group had been told. 'It increases blood flow and encourages sperm count.'   
Daken had to wonder exactly how many of these men on the trial were clued up on human biology, his eyes narrowing as he listened. Infertility happened for many reasons, but to directly inject a chemical into their genitalia seemed akin to jacking their patients up on a sort of steroid. Loki had trailed away from the group, managing to examine one of the recovering gents with scrutiny. Despite only having a 'harmless' injection, he looked sweaty like he was running a fever. What was more disconcerting was the hormones hanging in the air, Daken only allowed himself a brief glance as the scent grew stronger and stronger, but they were very clearly aroused. Whatever it was it worked, of a fashion.  
The man Loki was examining hacked, the cough rattling through him and bringing a shudder. Despite burning up, the sweat he was producing was akin to the cold sweats. Inject their test subjects and send them home to their partners. No doubt there was no talk at all of the side effects of non-human offspring. The scent was heady and strong, leaving Daken's pulse fluttering, perhaps not the best when he was supposed to be playing the role of a man facing the problem of being unable to get it up and firing blanks when he did. Thankfully the tour moved away from their preview of the after effects, although the two couldn't help notice that once they were away from the room security strong armed the previous patients from the recovery area. Were they to be pumped dry and thrown out the back or were they to be released upon the world? Daken couldn't help but spare a grimace, zipping away from the group into the bathroom along the way.

“I've seen enough,” He muttered, splashing his face and patting the remaining cold droplets on the nape of his neck. He needed to get away from the musk long enough to be able to think.   
“You know if you need to deal with that I won't judge you.” Loki smirked, returning to his usual appearance and gesturing to a stall with his thumb.  
“It'll pass. Just because my dick's willing, doesn't mean I am.” The mutant pushed himself away from the sink, and looked up. There was a ventilation shaft in this bathroom somewhere. “I'm not ruled by it, contrary to society's belief. Anyway, I'm declaring the mission to start now.”   
“Aye, commandant.” He raised his hand just over the lock on the bathroom door, there was a barely audible click as the lock shut. “Don't worry, once we're out of here others will be free to come in and relieve themselves, don't want to draw too much suspicion do we?”  
“You're sure the illusions will last?”  
“We've got until they want to shoot us up with those serums.” Loki gave a small shrug, really neither of them knew exactly how long that would be, so time was of the essence.

Espionage and subterfuge was once Daken's calling, although since his father passed and he had his run in with Syphon and Mr Sinister, subtlety had decided to evac and leave Daken with a bad case of the pink mist rage and a hair trigger temper. He wasn't as patient and he knew that would be working against him. It'd feel too damn satisfying to just kill all of them in the building until he reached the top and forcibly tore the answers from the CEO. But that would be what SHIELD wanted. Call him a brat, but he wasn't about to give them what they wanted or expected of him. He wouldn't be anyone's mindless attack dog. He'd handle this like a pro. Even if it meant having to psyche himself up whilst staring at his pathetic visage in the mirror. He growled, turning away to continue looking for the air duct. Either it was blended with the décor or there wasn't one after all. The floor plan Maria had provided him with was minimalist at best. All they knew was the layout of the air ducts themselves, bastards were awfully careful about their building's floor plan. The only ones they could get hold of were from an outdated layout before their blackout started, since then the visage of the corporation had drastically changed. Despite being minimalist, white and pristine, there were hints of inspiration from Greek architecture dotted here and there. Bunches of stone grapes and marble vine leaves acted as the ceiling coving. What stuck out to them the most was the paintings they'd adopted, all gods of fertility in various renaissance style pieces. Granted Daken had been sorely tempted to acquire the painting of Pan surrounded by small satyrs and Nymphs, he'd have to see if he could claim that at a later time. But now wasn't the time to be scrounging or art critique.  
“Think I've got it. You're not going to like it.” Loki hummed, hunched over as he squinted at panelling by the side of a stall. “It's a little small.”  
“We'll just have to cope.” Daken bit back, ushering the god out of the way. The scabbing on his wrist and knuckles had only just begun to stop looking quite so angry since he last used his claws, which only really made it worse when his wrist claw shot out and destroyed the screw. He bit back a hiss, frustrated by his diminishing pain threshold. Pain. It never really applied to him before, pain told normal people to not push themselves otherwise they'd injure themselves, when would that mean anything to him if he could just heal? Time and time again Laura told him he'd have to be more careful. He sighed, letting the claw retract just enough to allow him to attack the other three fittings.  
“Stop, stop.” Loki put his hand on Daken's forearm, “I know you want to be seen to be more than capable still. Believe me, you are. But let's just use a screwdriver for this hmm? Besides, you don't want to leave your DNA lying around do you?”   
The wound threatened to drip and Daken gave another hiss, pulling his bag off his back to retrieve a bandage. It was still a pain to only have one arm, but at least, it was getting easier to adapt. He'd grown more in the habit of using his mouth as a secondary means to grab things, whilst no it didn't look as dignified as he liked he almost relished in how uncomfortable it made people. Good. They knew how he felt. They would never say anything anyway. He tried to wrap the rags around his wrist, stubbornly keeping his distance from Loki.  
“Let me-”  
“I don't need to be babied,” He growled out around the fabric between his teeth, raising his upper lip to flash off his teeth completely.  
“No, but you're making a pig's ear of it. The more stubborn you are about this the more difficult it's going to get. You asked for my help now let me _give it_ , you arsehole.” Loki set the screwdriver down, pulling the panelling away. “If you keep shutting me out on this mission it's going to go to hell a lot quicker than you want.”  
“Is that a threat?”  
“It's a certainty. I know how stubborn and proud you are, but you're going to have to suck up and accept that you are going to need help sometimes.” Despite the harsh whisper he spoke in, there was a weary softness in his eyes, sighing as he grabbed the bandage and wrapped Daken's wrist. “If you are struggling, _let me help_. I don't think any less of you for it and neither should you. Maybe once we're done here we can find something that'll get you back your healing factor.”  
“...Thank you.”   
Loki didn't reply, just offered a small smile and a pat to Daken's shoulder. The two of them then shuffled their way into the air ducts.

The lower down they got, the warmer the air became. It was almost stifling. That same smell that had permeated the air in the recovery room. Arousal, a rich and intoxicating musk. Daken wished that he could switch off his senses for more than five minutes. It was bothersome more than anything, being caught in a confined space with Loki smirking and snickering under his breath every time he caught a glimpse of Daken's flushed cheeks. More than once Loki found Daken's boot kicking his shoulder with a grunt. If he continued to giggle like a school girl then there would be every chance they'd tip off the patrols below them to their presence.   
The tour group had long since dispersed, a search party now sent out to try and recover the two of them. He could only dread what they might try and do to them if they found them. Somehow he got the feeling this wasn't one of those companies that would just settle for a bullet in the brain and dispose of the bodies. It was ironic, of all the places he'd been to using males for just the sake of apparent reproduction felt that little bit more horrific. He was used to Romulus' blasé attitude he'd taught him to have towards women, they were the ones that did the breeding, they were the sows to be caught in the continuous cycle of pumping out children. It said more about Romulus the more he thought about it. To be faced with that threat of bodily violation.. again. He shuddered internally, glad that he knew how to keep psychics out of his head, it'd worked fantastically so far.  
  
Their glamours for the lower floors were simple, lab coats, unmemorable faces and nothing striking about them at all. Although, that would have been relevant, had the panel they dropped through actually let them out where they were supposedly intended to.   
It was a sub level, the only light that filtered through was from dimly lit bulbs hanging above them. What was it and these places having the worst lighting? Didn't people need to see? Clearly this wasn't a laboratory section, it was a storage room. Through the glass window in the door, they saw metal railings and mesh flooring above the lower level.   
“This doesn't scream suspicious at all.” Loki lilted, cracking open a wooden box to examine the contents. “Looks like this is where they stash the injections, and apparently they don't need to be kept cool-”  
“I'm actually kinda hurt that you didn't ask me to come along.”  
The two jolted, Daken hissed as he spotted neon pink out of the corner of his eye. Loki slammed the lid back down, neck almost snapping as his head shot to see where the voice had come from. Out of the air duct came a figure, cussing under their breath and adjusting their glasses. The black combat suit with yellow accents, of course. Quentin.  
“The hell are you doing here?”  
“Laura told me that you two were going ahead with the mission.”  
“You're not supposed to be here.” Daken growled, bristling at the sudden intrusion. This was his plan, he didn't need Laura micromanaging his every move. And worst of all, he'd have to keep an eye on an untrained kid who was more cocksure than he could back up in skill.  
“Tough shit, I'm here now. Besides, in this deep, your glamour spells won't fool them. You need to be unseen entirely.” Quentin hauled himself out of the duct and dusted himself off, “That's where I can help.”  
“Or Loki could just recount this in the future and say how no one saw us.”  
“I could. But I'm not going to. A story's got to have tension.”  
Daken gritted his teeth as he approached Quentin. “If you fuck this up, know that as much as I'd like to kick your ass all the way back to the Institute, we probably won't get that luxury. Do you know how serious of a mission this is?”  
“Do you?”  
He pushed the younger mutant before he turned on his heel to inspect the view from the door. Quentin had a point, and Loki wasn't about to back him up. Leader of the group huh? Yeah right. They were all lone wolves and didn't work well in teams. If they didn't get caught first they'd die of incessant bickering turning into a full blown fight.  
“How many are in the area?”  
“Can't you smell them, creeper?”  
“Ah no, you see all Daken can smell right now is the smell of arousal and sex and thus isn't breathing too deeply.” Loki didn't bother to hide the amused grin on his features, his arm looped over Quentin's shoulder. The psychic also began grinning, realising that was perhaps part of the reason as to why Daken was so grumpy. Not like he was hiding it all that well. He was wearing his emotions on his sleeve, practically radiating everything on his mind. If he weren't so competent with his abilities he'd probably be suffering a sympathetic headache and an unscheduled bout of empathic depression. He'd only really met Wolverine's son in passing. Once when he kidnapped Evan when he was working with the brotherhood. Once mentioned when the Apocalypse twins were wreaking havoc and then when Laura hauled his ass back to the Institute, telling them what had happened with Mystique. Back in the day when Logan spoke about him he sounded graceful and proud. Each time he saw him he seemed to live less and less up to the preconceived notions Logan filled his head with. When Logan told him he was dangerous, Quentin heard interesting. When Logan said how much he'd suffered and how it had twisted him to nigh breaking point, all Quentin heard was Logan rejecting him out of fear for damaging him further. He was scared, lonely, riddled with anxiety and depression and beat himself up about it too much. A more extreme version of Logan, not that he'd really want to hear it at all. The apple never falls far from the tree though.

“One scan coming right up.” Quentin tried to keep a straight face, placing a finger to his temple. He closed one eye, the open one unfocused as he concentrated on the layout. The security teams weren't in the area, all he could pick up were unconscious bodies, he couldn't tell if they were human or not. Loki's energy wasn't interfering with the scan thankfully, though Quentin couldn't help but be incredibly aware of his presence. They were searching for a god right? So he just needed to find another overwhelming presence, how hard could that be?  
The whirring of gears shifting and groaning set the three on high alert, Daken throwing the door open to watch as the floor split in half to allow a lift through. His hand came up over his mouth as the stench hit him, Quentin broke himself from his psychic scan as that other presence threatened to grab a hold of his projection and throttle it. Loki was the only one who remained unflapped, though his grin had long since disappeared.   
“We must be deeper than I thought. Would you look at that?” The magpie staff appeared in his grip, blue magic lightly radiating around it, ready to burst into action should it call for it. “How the mighty Cronus has fallen..”

It was a sorry sight to behold. The Titan was arguably the size of Thanos or the Hulk, but the large form was laid in a chair, tubes hooked up to him and one not so inconspicuously to his crotch. Buried underground, forgotten just to produce his seed for the means of manufacturing. This wasn't exactly what any of them had anticipated. A fight to subdue, a CEO to cackle as he spilled his guts about what he'd planned to do whilst under Cronus' control. Instead, they were met with a frail husk.  
“..What should we do?” Quentin winced.  
“Sh.” Daken hushed the boy and pulled them down out of view.  
Once the gears had stopped whirring and clattering, the lift had settled in place, Cronus' wheezing and the light tap of footsteps was all that could be heard. The footsteps grew closer, followed by the pattering of boots and the squeak of a wheel in need of oilling. Loki glanced down for a split second, presumably, they'd come to collect their bounty for the day from the Titan. Leading them was a fairly tall thin man accompanied by another of similar structure, though not quite as tall. The two men spoke amongst themselves, passively gesturing for their subordinates to gather the tubes filled with what they could only assume were the desired bodily fluids. The first man was pale, but not from heritage, it was perhaps from not seeing much of the sun. He should have by every right been a rich bronze hue, his nose an aquiline shape, thick dark hair and thin arched eyebrows. Despite clearly being a man of importance he was wearing hideous cowboy boots over jeans, a leather jacket and a white shirt with a hint of gold embroidery. The other man had a shaved head, his eyes almost catlike by comparison, there was an old elegance about him, even though he appeared no older than his mid-thirties.   
Once their men had finished gathering the product, the boss man approached the Titan, beckoning for the group to leave the three of them be.   
“Tired are we?” The sympathetic tone was that of mockery, as he patted Cronus' thigh. “I suppose you are due for another shot, have to keep you going.”  
“Flaag, we should be going. Security have lost the insurgents and we're sure they're with SHIELD.”  
The man named Flaag only seemed to reply with a shrug. “We've got all we need from him. There's been enough test subjects to give us what we need. We can start anew somewhere else.” He paused and gave a pointed look upwards and Loki ducked back behind cover. Had they been seen? More importantly did that guy even care at all? The footsteps began once more and the two left the Titan to its fate.  
“We're going to free him right?” Quentin stood up, watching the two go.  
“Titans aren't typically good news, they have a bad habit of eating their offspring. So unless we want this monster running around and devouring the kids he'd produced-”  
“You're going to leave him plugged into that machine?”  
“Loki, Quentin, we are going to establish that I don't care. He's better off there.”  
“Boo for you, I'm going down to talk with him. Nothing is what it seems at first glance, and you of all people should know better than to judge someone by their reputation.”  
“Actually I find a person's reputation a useful tool-”  
“Shut up already.”

Loki hopped over the barrier, landing silently on the floor below. Daken growled and pointed to the lower floor, Quentin got the hint that perhaps that was where they were to go. He levitated the two of them after their team-mate who was already getting himself closely acquainted with the weary Titan.  
Once upon a time, Loki would have circled him, analysed him, perhaps with a hint of mockery like 'Flaag' had done and yet he felt nothing but sympathy for the creature. How he had fallen indeed. What was concerning him the most however, was just how in the hell did they capture Cronus? Titans didn't just go down, it took a heinous amount of magical ability and planning. How long had this been going on for? He exhaled puffed cheeks, looking at the cables.   
“If we get him out of there who knows what we're going to be dealing with.” Daken muttered, crouched by a tank. The red in his cheeks was much deeper in hue now he was closer to the source of the scent. As much as Loki was enjoying teasing the mutant for his predicament, he wasn't going to be much use in a fight like this. Whilst he was indeed a competent fighter and Quentin was powerful, subterfuge was best. “We've got all the information and proof we need. We'll call in the tac Squad and they can take it from here. Rescuing was not part of the job description, so shelve that bleeding heart and save it for another time.”  
Loki wanted to hate him, just that little bit. But the mutant was diligently shifting around the area and taking photograph after photograph of the Titan, the machine and the already filling tubes of ejaculate.  
“Quentin, are you able to keep us from being seen on the way out?”  
“Unless they've got anti-psychic technology we should be alright.” He offered his hand to help Daken from his crouching position. “Thought you didn't need me?”  
“You're here, so I'm sure I can find use for you.” He rolled his eyes, instead pushing himself up on his thigh. Everything felt like it crunched; once that would have been refreshing, now it just felt uncomfortable. “Besides, the brains of this organisation is aware we've infiltrated, if we try and get ourselves and this lug out then who knows what chaos will ensue. It's safer if we find our own way out. Even if they move him, we'll find them again. We know what they're doing and SHIELD can publically drag them. It's their own fault for being so.. obvious about it.”  
“Makes you wonder if they even cared about getting caught.” Loki's brows dropped. “They're either incredibly arrogant, stupid or they've got all they need from him. What does that say to you? An enemy who will sacrifice everything just to keep ahead.”  
“Arrogant.” Daken barked, “They'll trip again. Enough waxing poetic, let's get out of here.”  
“You don't want to hear what Cronus has to say on it?” Loki gestured to the figure hunched over. His eyes were glazed, unseeing yet open. He didn't look to be in a position to be talking to anyone. Daken winced, he hated being sloppy. He hated loose ends, but he wasn't sure he could stand being around the scent for much longer. The air was thick and overwhelming and if he lost control of himself he wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself. This wasn't like his time at Avengers tower and being crass and sexual to distract, he knew he'd just be rolling over. It wasn't on his terms.  
“If you can talk to him then try.” He leant against one of the tubes, trying to keep his pulse steady, focusing on just staying upright. “Quentin, do what you can.”  
“ _Please_.” The young man's brows raised as he placed fingers to his temples regardless.

Wading into a Titan's mind was unlike anything, despite evidence of mental defences in place before, it looked as though something far more powerful had just bulldozed on through. To say his mindscape was a mess was putting it lightly. There were breif flashes, impressions and hints of his capture, but not enough to put any clues together. All he knew was the Titan was terrified throughout the whole ordeal. At first he'd been amused, and then things got hazy. All he knew was mind warping horror. Too many limbs and too many eyes. Get them away. Get them away. Panic. Ancient and long forgotten terrors. What in the hell could have terrified a Titan to the point of shutting down? Quentin trudged deeper, trying to avoid the darker glimmers the images offered, part of him cursing himself for not bracing himself more, but how could he have known? All the while he couldn't help but feel that something had been left there, something keeping the Titan docile and quiet. He could feel a cold sweat beading on his body's forehead, grimacing at the barrenness of the area. It felt like he was walking through the ruins of an Ancient Greek temple in the middle of a storm. The pillars had been shattered, the remnants of a village at the foot of the mountain was burning, death and decay were rich in the air. Which shouldn't have been unusual for the era of the Titans... But it felt wrong. The prickling up the back of his neck, and down his arms was horrendous. With every glance over his shoulder, it felt like something was getting closer. Stalking and hunting him. _Find Cronus, get out of here_. As he stepped deeper into the ruined temple he could hear something; a low and dull groan. The throne was shattered, half-formed and yet still seated in it was Cronus. In the corner of the temple a fire roared, one of the fire pits had been knocked over and set curtains and decorative drapery ablaze. The Titan couldn't move, around him were chains that seemed to flit in and out of existence, constantly shifting and adapting. He couldn't focus on what they were, one minute they seemed to be made of metal and the next they were almost alive. Slimy, a creature with too many limbs and eyes, the chains were tendrils laced together, the main body of the creature latched at his chest, one set of limbs bound his wrists, another his feet and the rest shifted menacingly, threatening any that dared approach. Quentin blinked and it shifted once more. Nothing more than wrought iron chains and cuffs.   
“ _Cronus, who did this? What happened?_ ” Quentin kept his distance but spoke loudly. Perhaps too loud. He felt like he was drawing too much attention to his presence.  
“ _Get out._ ” The Titan rumbled, seemingly springing to life at the sight of the mutant. He struggled against the confinements and they shifted once more. The creature was apparently aware enough to use it's other tendrils to grip him tighter. “ _If you know what's good for you human, you shall escape whilst you still can._ ” He fought to keep the tendrils away from his mouth, stop it from gagging him. “ _The forgotten ones have awakened, away with you-_ ” The tendril wrapped itself around Cronus' mouth and there was an audible squeeze as it wrapped tighter and tighter.   
The prickling in his skin grew more incessant, that sheer undiluted dread that he was way over his head gnawed at the back of his mind. His back twitched, like it was trying to edge away from something. He didn't dare turn around this time. The look in Cronus' eye was enough to tip him off now was the time to cut the connection. In front of him the shadow was ghastly, claws, too many joints in an arm that was too long, hot putrid breath exhaled over his shoulder. Quentin swallowed thickly and let out a psychic blast as he cut the connection. He didn't want to have any stowaways finding their way into his psyche.

He opened his eyes to the physical world and dropped to his knees, heaving hard breaths and shuddering. He didn't know what he'd seen, it looked alien but not like one he'd seen before, even in that hell hole of a casino Logan took him to in one of the furthest reaches of space. Loki rushed to his side, a hand at his shoulder. Whilst they had no idea what had befallen Quentin in there, the increased tension within him had grown more apparent the deeper he went.  
“What did you see?”   
“It's wrecked. He's a prisoner in his own mind. There's something in there, keeping him bound. I don't-” He spoke quickly, trying to remember what he'd seen. It felt almost like a dream. All he had was impressions, what had seemed so real was now fleeting and being pushed from his memory. It was like his mind was rejecting all that it had seen. “He said something about the forgotten ones? Something older than the Titans, maybe? Shit. Don't make me go back in there.”  
Daken said nothing, just closing his eye and taking in what he could hear. The young man's chest was hammering, he stank of fear, sweat and anxiety. It was palpable, tingled at his palette, how easy it would have been to go for the kill, as though he were a frightened gazelle. He shook his head, chasing the thought from his mind. Perhaps the Pride were involved? After all, exploitative business, disgustingly powerful and otherworldly mind games weren't unheard of for them. He pressed a button on his communicator and signalled for pick up. With their psychic out of action and his current predicament, they weren't getting out with help.

  
  


The team had been efficient, strangely so given that it was fronted by Deadpool of all people. Seemed he had his own tac squad he worked with on occasion, brought in when they had nothing to lose by going all out. Their exchange was brief, Daken expressed his distaste, Deadpool _tried_ to offer his condolences and got a punch for his troubles. So nothing really had changed between them, even if Deadpool was amused at Daken's attempt to go seemingly legitimate.  
“We'll get our team of psychics to go over him with the proper precautions, see what we can garner from this.” Maria was flat with them, even though it was a success, things had apparently not gone the way she wanted them to. What was she expecting, a suicide run? One less person for her to worry about going dark side on her watch, after all, SHIELD weren't going to forget about HAMMER's antics after all, and especially how he played all of them.  
“I can't say if this is part of something bigger, but they didn't appear phased when they knew we'd gotten in.” Loki rubbed his feet, despite there being a distinct air of disdain for his feet on the seats.  
“They knew we were there. The asshole looked right at us.” Daken growled. “Cronus was just a means to an end. They've probably got what they want from him and are now out for the next 'thing'.”  
“That's all speculation. We've got names, we'll do the chase from here.”  
The airship landed at an airstrip with transportation waiting for them, in the form of Laura leaning on a car that Daken vaguely recalled seeing at the Institute. They were escorted off the airship, Maria Hill stood at the hangar with her arms folded and expression set in steel.  
“So this is it? No thank you for your hard work, boys?” He knew he shouldn't have started, mostly by the look Laura was giving him, but Daken was feeling prickly. Someone needed to bear the brunt of it and the potential for all that could have gone wrong. “No, this was a lot worse than we realised, thank you for uncovering this operation? For someone who condemned how careless that organisation was you're being awfully hypocritical with us.”  
“Daken-”  
“No, I want to hear what you have to say for yourself Ms. Hill.” He was approaching Maria, getting up in her personal space, teeth bared, ready for a fight. “If I'd died that'd be one less problem for you right? Put me on these missions so you can have an agent like my old man back and simultaneously have a way to get rid of me if you see fit. I understand.” Maria didn't budge, all she'd done was raise an eyebrow. “But if that's what it is, then be upfront. After all, you don't trust me, I don't trust you, I hate you, you hate me, what's there to lose with some transparency?”  
“I understand that losing your father has shaken you. But I've got more to worry about than making sure I haven't hurt your feelings. This isn't a good will gesture to you, and your 'old man' was smarter than to make requests of me by putting my neck out for a loose canon like you. You want us to look past your shady history, you've got to work for it. So until that point, you're just another number on our payroll. If you get killed in the field, there's plenty of other agents that can fill your shoes.” Maria held firm, narrowing her eyes. She knew how much of a bully Daken thrived on being, how he had to be the most powerful and smartest in the room. She'd heard enough to be able to paint a picture on him. Babying a fully grown man wasn't going to fly. “If your father was around, we'd give it to him, yes, but that's because he had connections and knew how to get a job done. You're ruthless and have your own connections. It was thin air and Romulus' name had been hovering around it. That's all there was to it. No hidden agenda, you're the only person who knows the most about Romulus other than your father. Happy?”  
“You don't know anything about me. Just because daddy dearest liked to whine about how he failed me, he didn't know anything _either_. So don't talk like you know what's going on with me.”  
“You wear it wherever you go, Daken. I don't have to presume, you've been destroying yourself and putting yourself in harm's way since he died.”  
“And you're just making use of that. How utilitarian of you.” The mutant turned on his heel and stomped towards the car. He let himself in and slammed the door behind him. Feeling raw and simultaneously numb. He wanted to scream at her and yet he couldn't be bothered, it wouldn't gain him anything other than blindly lay his cards out on the table for everyone to see. As much as he didn't care, he wasn't that far gone yet. He knew he'd regret it later. But even in the heat of the moment, he'd laid himself bare, Maria was right. It's all he'd been doing. Suicidal tendencies and all. They must have been desperate to let him anywhere near this. All it did was confirm what he thought, he thought it'd feel good to have it confirmed and yet it just numbed everything all over again. First with 'Stormin' Norman' and now the frigid Maria Hill.

Loki and Quentin joined him, albeit they didn't say anything to Daken. The ride back to the institution was silent and awkward. Quentin knew how bad it'd felt to lose Logan, as much as they butted heads. His death had taken something with him as much as he didn't want to admit it and he knew Laura had tried to have that talk with him many times over and was met with stubbornness.   
Loki knew what it was to reinvent yourself, how hard it was to break away from preconceived notions of who you were, how hard you had to struggle and flouder until you found just the perfect nook to wriggle out of the cycle. Although perhaps his was indeed more extreme. It was odd to say he had faith in Daken, the blur that was the time before the Dawning was still avid in his memory, even if smaller details were skewed or foggy. He had stories to tell, stories that allowed this world to exist now. He hadn't gone public with it to anyone but Daken, and even then he wondered if the mutant actually believed a word he'd said. Did he even really care at this point? Probably not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Underneath the mountain, we took shelter from the storm  
> When the skies had cleared, we chased our shadows North  
> We drew a circle in the ashes where we fell asleep  
> We dreamed about tomorrow and the secret we would always keep
> 
> A slight of hand to make us blind  
> Our past life shared, we left behind  
> When tomorrow comes, there'll be no end in sight  
> The dreams of blood devotion follow us here  
> These tears run into the ocean as we disappear
> 
> Home is something I'll never know  
> It's where I wanted to go  
> Cause in the world below, I was always alone"  
> Oceania - The Birthday Massacre


End file.
